The Life You Stole (Life Duet 2)

“Landed me in the hospital.”

I grimaced, closing the door to the two-story library while Ronin sat on one of four custom fabric sofas. “I’m so sorry, Ronin.”

“Don’t be. Your news is much worse than my short visit to the ER. I’m … god, I’m so sorry.”

His apologies—his sympathy crushed me. “You’re miserable.” I sat next to him, tucking my bare feet beneath me and running my hands over the skirt of my navy wrap dress with white piping. “I can see it on your face and in your eyes.”

He grunted a laugh, running his hands through his hair instead of touching me, the one thing I knew he needed. “I’m …” He shook his head, fisting his hair. “Somedays I swear I don’t feel this instinct … this will to live. And I don’t understand it because I have a wife who loves me and two beautiful children. It makes no sense unless it’s …” He opened his eyes.

“Me,” I whispered. “I … I’m sorry. It’s the treatment. The bad news. It’s the stress of going back to work to a job I love but feeling guilty, like I’m abandoning the things I took on as First Lady.”

“Please …” He sighed. “Stop apologizing. I don’t blame you. And I hate that you feel responsible for any of this. I know you can’t help what’s happening to you or your feelings. I’m such an asshole for even asking for you to see me. To …”

As he released his hair, letting his arms flop, I rested my hand on his leg. He dragged in a shaky breath. Just that quickly, he felt it. Our connection. And I felt needed. By that point, Ronin was the only person in the whole world who made me feel needed. But his need for me was toxic. Toxic like Graham’s love for Evelyn.

The four of us lived a tortured existence, just in very different ways.

“When I die, you’ll be free.”

“Jesus, Lila … I don’t want you to die, no matter what it might mean for me.”

“Well, we can’t control what’s happening to my body.”

“I can’t talk about this. I don’t want to think about your cancer or my depression. I don’t want to talk about Graham or Evie. I just want …”

“Lie back.” I climbed off the sofa and pulled a book from one of the shelves.

Ronin spread his legs, and I situated myself between them, reclining back onto his chest.

“Desolation Angels?”

“It’s one of my favorites.” He wrapped his arms around my waist, hugging me to him as I started reading Jack Kerouac’s words.

With the turn of each page, his grip on me tightened, his hands moved softly along my abdomen, his legs closed in around mine, and his mouth hovered over my scarf-covered head.

I tried to stay focused on the words, not the warmth of his body. But my mind jumbled, drifting from the story to the video of Graham and Evie, and back to the warm body wrapped around me.

My heart started to beat faster and harder. My skin felt flush. My voice took on a husky tone, breathless and wanton.

“Focus on the book, please,” Ronin begged. He felt my desire, and I felt him hard at my back.

I swallowed and then cleared my throat, trying to add some true character to the narration. Anything to distract my body from wanting something more. My legs squeezed together, like holding their breath, but it didn’t work. Knowing Evelyn and Graham had an affair only multiplied my desire for Ronin. Knowing I had very little time left in my life multiplied it even more.

“Lila … please.” Ronin’s breaths sounded ragged like mine as he adjusted slightly beneath me. It felt like him rocking his hips into my back was more than a simple adjustment.

My nipples were hard. The hairs on my skin stood at attention. And I felt a trickle of desire between my legs in spite of how tightly I clenched them together.

I knew it was wrong, but once you stopped caring about life, you stopped caring about all the stupid moral beliefs that dictated it. Once you saw your best friend sucking off your husband, you no longer gave a fuck if her husband touched you. I pulled the tie to my dress.

“Don’t …” Ronin rocked his hips against me in spite of his weak plea.

How did it feel to him? It had to be the best drug ever. Feeling his desire and mine. It had to be stronger than any drug. Impossible to resist.

I eased open my dress so he could see my dark blue lace panties and the matching bra.

“We have to stop …”

I ignored him, certain that the truth would one day come out, and he would look back and realize I was giving him what his wife was giving another man. Only … they had no otherworldly excuse.